


A Deal With the Devil

by JointheBrisistance



Series: A Deal With The Devil [1]
Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-24
Updated: 2012-11-24
Packaged: 2017-11-19 09:09:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/571609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JointheBrisistance/pseuds/JointheBrisistance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony and Loki meeting in the after life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nickirows](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nickirows/gifts).



> I actually like this a lot. Blek. My first story here. I'm excited. 
> 
> I hope you like this "the-loki-army" from tumblr. I tried. 
> 
> Sorry it took so long. :)

Tony went out just like anyone would have expected him to, a hero, in a giant ball of fire plummeting towards New York City. The brightest stars always have the flashiest burnout.

The only one who probably didn't see it coming was Tony Stark himself. He'd always expected himself to die going all out on a drinking binge in his workshop, trying to silence his own inner guilt. Yes, getting swept to the earth from the aftershock of one of the newest doombots was certainly not the plan. 

Tony, the physical Tony at least, laid in a crater several inches deep, his arc reactor had stopped working somewhere between the time he hit the atmosphere and the moment he hit the ground. His suit was smashed to bits, looking more like a piece of crumpled tin foil than a high tech super suit.

The other Avengers gathered around him, Steve throwing down his shield to kneel in front of his fallen friend, "Damn it, Tony," Steve muttered, a rare profanity from the supers soldier, leaning forward to rip the crinkled metal from his body, searching for the bright blue light that would tell him that Tony would be alright. His hopes dropped, however; when 'Tony's heart had a giant gash in the middle with tons of blood coated wires sticking out in various directions. Tony's skin had taken a sickly gray tint.

"BANNER!" he yelled, and Steve is surprised at how angry he sounds. The same feeling he'd felt on the war front reappeared in his gut.  
The process of "Hulking In" was less embarrassing than it had ever been for Bruce. He downgraded to his human form, took the pants offered to him by Clint wordlessly and threw them on, making his way over to Tony as quickly as possible.

"We have to close that wound," he said, tugging on a piece of the fabric on his pants, tearing a large chunk out of them and pressing it heavily to the gaping hole in his Tony's chest, " Steve, hold this here," he commanded. Bruce turned his attention to finding some semblance of a heart beat in his friend's body- and damn it, he hates himself for not checking if if Tony even had a pulse rate to begin with, "Tony, can you hear us?"

No answer.

"Stark- Stark, please," Natasha spoke up and for the first time in a while, she sounded unsure, "Get up, Stark. This isn't funny."

He didn't even twitch.

Clint touched a hand to Natasha's shoulder.

“Man of Iron?” Thor spoke next, “Comrade?”

Nothing.

“Damn it, Tony!” Steve said, “Come on.”

They stayed quiet for a long while after that, the high of battle suddenly far too sober.

Bruce leaned back slowly, removing his hands from Tony’s person.

“What are you doing?” Steve asked frantically, wanting nothing more than to shake the other man, but he knew that in order to do that, he’d have to move his hands from the bloody cloth from the Tony’s chilled chest.

“He’s gone, Steve. I can’t find his pulse and there’s too much blood. His arc reactor must have stopped working long before he even got to us. The shrapnel must of punctured his heart by now.”

“But- You’re a doctor! Fix him!”

“There’s nothing I can do, Steve,” Bruce flinched at the harsh look thrown his way, “He was dead before he hit the ground.”

Steve ignored him and continued to place pressure on the wound, trying his hardest not to let his strength get ahead of him, “Come on, soldier. Wake up.”

“He’s gone, Cap,” Clint said for the first time, “There’s nothing we can do.”

The silence wafted through the air again. Steve stood up, wiping his hands off on his uniform.

“He went out in the most glorious way, my friends- In the heat of battle,” Thor said, his solemn tone speaking for everyone.

\---------------------------------------------------

Telling Pepper was just as hard as they imagined. She didn’t believe them at first, insisting that this was just one of Tony’s petty pranks. She demanded they show her some time of proof. She wanted to see him. Steve refused several times to let her see the body, so they made a make shift compromise and brought her his trashed helmet instead. She only looked at it for a moment before storming out og the room, seemingly more angry than sad. Everyone stood awkwardly when they heard her gentle sobbing from behind the door.  
No one knew how to comfort her.  
\---------------------------------------------------

The city mourned for Tony’s death as well. People everywhere showed up to the incredibly open service in the middle of Central Park. Tony’s casket was flown in by a state of the art Stark Industries helicopter, descending down from the heavens with several Stark Industry paracutes cushioning the fall. ACDC blasted in the background, blanketing the entire city in “Back in Black.”

The Avengers all stood off to the side. Outwardly looking as clean and crisp as usual, but on the inside, they were all dealing with the loss in different ways.  
Steve stood tall and proud in his highly decorated military uniform, the metals glinting brightly in the sunlight. His head was reeling, both from the shock of having lost another friend to “war” and having to deal with a gaping hole in his team.

Natasha wore the same dress she did when she seduced him for SHIELD. If anyone noticed her sentiment, no one said anything. Clint stuck closely by her side, his sunglasses hiding his red, slightly puffy eyes. 

Thor, dressed in his same Asgardian battle armor stood a little farther off. Mjolnir hung low at his side and he thought about what kind of jokes Tony would make about him having “Mjolnir in his pants.” His chest ached badly at the thought that he would never hear Tony’s mockeries again. 

Bruce hung off in his own secluded corner away from the crowd and other Avengers, partly to minimize the odds of him Hulking out in the middle of the ceremony and partly to hide his guilt from the others. He, of all people, should have been there to convince Tony not to go. The odds of Tony surviving another fall from space was little to none. He’s never cursed the big guy more than he did at that moment. Tony was his first friend, the first one to relax around him, even though he had a toiling green rage monster just under his skin.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tony Stark died that day. The backlash from an explosion caused him to come spiraling back down to Earth in a great big ball of fire. The Avengers will never be the same again.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might continue this. Hmmm.... I actually don't want to let it go.

It is cold when Tony first wakes up, which is weird considering the last thing he remembers is being so unbearably hot that he could hardly stand it, even with his Iron man suit on. He cannot see anything. There is a blurry darkness surrounding him, cradling him, yet giving no warmth.

"Hello?" He calls, and his voice sounds weak, as if he hasn't used it in a while, "JARVIS?" He asks. Of course there is no answer, the doombot had fried the comms the moment the Avengers had stepped onto the battlefield. 

Tony lifts an arm, or at least he thinks it's his arm. He's too numb to tell. He glides his fingertips against his temple. No suit, he interprets, setting his arm back down by his side. 

Questions are whizzing through his head at the speed of light. What happened to him? He remembers letting go Doctor Doom's robot tragedy into space before the thing combusted and sent him hurtling back towards Earth. He remembers burning. His burning. 

He's dead.

The answer hits him hard, he must be deader than a doornail, with his body probably being buried 6 feet under, most likely reduced to cinders from the intense heat. 

Tony is far from an idiot. The last reading on the thermometer was over 120 degrees. He is a man of science, he knows that no one could ever survive that.

Tony tries not to think about the other Avengers, Pepper, or especially all he lives loss he had yet to repay as Ironman. He refuses to think of all the unfinished projects in his workshop or the fact he will never have a cheeseburger or feel the rough burn of scotch down his throat ever again. He sucks in a gulp of air that gets caught up in his chest. 

"Getting a little bit... choked up, are we?" Tony hears, and he snaps his head up to look in the direction of the voice. The other sounds familiar, but he can’t pin it down.

“Who’s there?” his voice is stronger than before, and he’s excited to admit, no longer holds a sign of his earlier depression.

“I’m offended, Anthony. Have you forgotten me already?” The voice is snarky and holds a “holier than thou” attitude, one that Tony often finds himself using. 

“Reindeer Games?” Why would Loki, of all people be here? Wasn’t he supposed to be locked up all nice and cosy over in Asgard? After his return from the other planet, Thor had insisted that the Allfather, or whoever, had taken Loki’s punishment into his own hands and sent him deep underground to work as a slave until he payed off his debt to all the worlds he had effected in his rage.

“There’s the Anthony Stark I was hoping for.”

“Where are we?” he has no time for this mischief bull shit today, the only thing he cares about is finding a way to leave wherever here this place and perhaps continue his to wallow in self pity.

“But don’t you know already, Anthony?” he hears his voice again and he thinks he’s going crazy because there is still no sign of him anywhere.

“Well,” Tony says, “I know I’m dead, and since you’re here, I’m guessing that I’ve gone straight to heck.” 

“‘Heck’?” Loki asks incredulously, “You. of all people. I believed would not fall for that funny Midgardian fairytale.

“Then where are we? Are we on Asgard?”

Tony can practically feel the distaste on Loki’s face, “No.”

“Then we’re still on Earth?” he says, and is not the least bit sorry for the tinge of hope that come with it. 

“No. I am afraid we are neither here nor there.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean that we do not currently reside on any of the 9 realms.” Loki suddenly sounds tired and exasperated, as if he was speaking to a small child, “You said it yourself, Anthony. You are dead. You are in the afterlife.” 

“If I’m dead, then why are you here?” Tony prods carefully, jabbing a finger in what he hopes to be the correct direction. Last time he checked, Gods weren’t able to die, and Loki was no exception. He endured a thrashing from the Hulk and still lived to walk back to Asgard covered in little more than scratches.”

“I’m here to offer you a deal, Anthony Stark,” Loki speaks evenly, and his voice seems closer, much closer- as if he was standing only a few inches away. Tony feels a surprisingly warm hand across his cheek and by instinct alone, he leans into it. Long fingers curl almost fondly around his face and relishes in the first bit of heat he’s gotten since he’s woken up here. He all but melts into the touch, but snaps back when the other chuckles.

Tony chooses to ignore the uncomfortable feeling that coiled in his stomach or that his cheek still feels hot where Loki had touched him.“What kind of deal?” A little part of him is screaming ‘Danger, Danger, Danger!’ but Tony was never one to listen to others, let alone others he hears within himself.

“I could get you out of here,” Loki says nonchalantly, even though he knows he’s offering food to a starving man, “I could send you back to your bed in your precious tower, all nice and cosy.”

“But I’m dead.”

“Yes,” Loki whispers, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He places a heavy hand on Tony’s shoulder, “And I am a God.”

Tony stiffens under Loki’s heavy arm, “An imprisoned God. A God who’s supposed to be paying for all he’s done to Earth and whatever else Thor said you fucked up.”

“Do you honestly believe that the chains of Asgard could really contain me?” he asks, slightly offended, drawing a hand back to settle upon Tony’s cheek again, though his grip s somewhat harder than it was the first time.

“Well I thought those magic stopping handcuffs Thor whipped up last time seemed to do the trick sooo... “ Tony feels himself leaning into Loki again, his words drawling slightly as he tries to get them out. He doesn’t even think about pulling away this time. The pads of Loki’s fingers are soft, which doesn’t surprise Tony as much as he thought it would. Since he’s Thor’s brother, Tony half expected him to be rough and calloused, a fine warrior. But, Tony reasons, he is also the God of Mischief, he could easily trick any man or woman into doing his bidding. Tony wonders if he’s ever really gotten his hands dirty.

Loki is certainly different from the last time he was with him. The Loki back then was insane, wide eyed and lusting after a cosmic blue cube. The Loki here just seems tired. His movements are tired and labored, and his touch holds something close to affection. It drives him mad.

“Temporary,” Loki waves off. He moves his hand sharply upward to play with Tony’s hair, the short stubs ticking him slightly, “My deal, Anthony?”

“What do you want from me, though?” Tony asks thoughtlessly, focusing more on the comforting petting than the important matter at hand. Loki is everything he thought he wouldn’t be- soft, gentle, but most of all, he seems forgiving (something that Tony would not expect from anyone, least of his former enemy.), “There are two parts to every deal.”

“You are as clever as ever, aren’t you, Anthony? Your side is simple. All you must do is assist me in gaining my freedom."

“Your freedom,” Tony says, testing the word on his tongue, “I thought you said that the chains of Asgard couldn’t hold you?” he mocks drowsily, his head nodding forward slightly. 

“It is not the chains of Asgard I worry about. It is the persecution that follows. How would you feel if you could not go wherever you wanted at any desired time? To know that each and every one of your movements were being tracked and recorded for all those to see?” Loki comes closer, if that’s even possible. Tony can feel his hot breath on his lips and there’s a need inside of him that’s driving him absolutely crazy, “It is not a nice feeling, Anthony.” 

Tony pushes forward just then to close the gap, only to catch the air where Loki had just been.

“Wha-?” 

‘“My deal, Anthony?” 

“What will I have to do?” he mumbles. His danger sense is no longer tingling and it feels as if he has a really nice buzzing going. Making a deal with a God is risky. Making a deal with the God of Mischief is like locking yourself in a room with a Hulked out Bruce. 

“You will speak for me. You will tell Odin of my change and get him to release me from both his prison and surveillance.”

"What change? You're just the same as you always were."

"Ah, that is what you think, Anthony. I am different in more ways than one." Tony wants to know exactly how different Loki could be, but that wonderful hand has wound its way back to his hair. He should be more worried, but hey, Tony is only human. 

"Where will go when you leave, Dasher? I can't have you finding your alien friends and ransacking New York City again. The clean up from that was hell." 

Loki ignores his snipe, probably because he doesn't understand it. "I will be staying with you, of course. You will be my champion, of sorts. You will let me take residence with you in your tower. That is, until the Allfather is convinced I can live on my own again."

"With me?" Tony repeats, suddenly sobered up, "In the tower?"

"Yes," Loki huffs, annoyed.

"How the hell am I supposed to swing that?"

"You must strike a deal with the Allfather. From what I've seen, you, out of all the Avengers, are the best with your words." Tony could practically feel Loki grinning back at his face. "Do not fret, Anthony. I am sure that you won't be facing this alone. Thor will most likely I along with anything that you say in some desperate attempt to maintain his brotherhood with me."

“So why can’t Thor handle this then?”

“I would not trust that oaf with anything as important as this.Besides, you are the one that craves something so badly in return.”

Tony lets his words sink in for a second. This is the God of Mischief he was talking to, Loki Liesmith, the Trickster. Every single thing could be a lie and Tony could be falling for it.

“What else do I get out of it?” he asks, and for once, Tony is glad that Pepper forced him to go to all those board meetings. Tony isn’t the only one who’s striving for something.

“Excuse me?” He could imagine Loki raising a delicately arched eyebrow at him.

“What else do I get for risking my life for you?”

“What life, Anthony? You have already lost that. This is an all or nothing opportunity. You have nothing to lose and everything to gain.” 

The words sting Tony more than he lets on. Loki is right. 

“You can have it all again and more, Anthony,” he drawls, “All you have to do is say yes.” Loki is far too close again, his hands tangle in Tony’s short hair and his breath tastes fresh against his lips.

Tony’s heart is pounding in his chest and he knows it’s going to be now or never. Hell, he had never been good at telling a good idea from a bad one to begin with.

“Yes.”

“I knew you were a smart man, Anthony,” Loki says almost wickedly, and smashes his lips forward onto Tony’s. 

Tony knows that he probably just sold his soul to the devil but with Loki's body pushing warmth into his, he really couldn't care less.

Loki's arms settle back around Tony's neck, to holding him there tightly as if he never wanted I let go. For a second, Tony has a feeling that is more than a silly deal to Loki, that this could all actually mean something. Tony pulls his arms around the other's thin body, and hell, it doesn't even feel like Loki could have thrown him out of a building not even half a year ago. Loki is different now, and Tony is suddenly more intrigued; though his curiosity is not only on the physical level. 

Loki is warm and safe and he never wants to let go. 

"Loosen your grip, Anthony." Loki whispers, breaking the kiss, and if Loki wasn’t so distracted, he would be proud to say that God is a little bit breathless. Being dead for who knows how long apparently doesn’t affect his unworldly kissing skills. 

"What-?" 

"Do you not want me to hold up my side of the bargain?"

Right, Tony thinks stupidly, of course. "Go ahead," he says, "Do your worst."

Tony expects it to hurt when Loki places his hand on the place where his Arc Reactor is supposed to be. He expects it to burn, to itch, to fester. What he doesn't expect is that it feels like air is being poured back into his lungs. He feels almost too hot, but not the same way he did while he was dying. This heat is comfortable, this heat feels safe. It feels like working long nights in his workshop. This heat feels like home. 

"Loki" he tries to say, but he's sure it comes out as a bunch of gibberish.

"Hush, Anthony," he speaks, and Tony can picture him standing in front of him, just as he had done all those months ago, except with a very different intent in mind. Loki is gorgeous, he's strong, he’s a God, and Tony can't remember being with any this glorious. 

The hand gripping his newly regenerated Arc Reactor releases him, going back to its station around his neck. Loki is panting, the spell must have taken more out of him than he originally intended. Tony wants to ask if he's alright, but Loki is placing another shaky kiss on his lips so he decides to think with his other head for a while, his hands instead tightening and sinking lower to cup the swell of his Godly ass.

"Open your eyes, Anthony," he hears and Tony thinks he's crazy because he's had them open all along.

"Open them," Loki repeats encouragingly, and though Tony could still feel him in his arms, he feels like he's getting farther and farther away.

"Loki....?"

"Now, Tony. Open them NOW." His voice is almost frantic so Tony finally forces himself to obey, not even giving himself enough time to question the shortening of his name. 

When his eyelids drift open, all Tony sees is green. Green, green, green, everywhere.

"Good," he hears faintly before the other's weight is lifted from his arms. The green fades to white and everything is so bright that Tony has to shut them again.  
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
"Come on, soldier," he hears someone say, and he knows it's no longer Loki. Is that.... Cap?

"Come on," Steve repeats. 

Tony's eyes snap open and he sees something he thought he'd never see again: the sun.

"Woah," he says, and his voice sounds scratchy even though he was only using it moments ago, "Sounds like someone missed me." 

Steve's eyes widens he leans back to gesture the other Avengers closer , "He's awake!" 

A sudden weight feels as if it has been lifted off of all of their shoulders.

"You have got to stop doing that," someone says, and Tony's going to grow a wild guess out there and say it's Clint. 

There are nods of agreement throughout the group and Tony himself can't help but agree. They can relax this day, for the Avengers still remain whole. 

Tony lets himself be carried back to a SHIELD emergency vehicle. He shuts his eyes and dreams of searing green eyes.

Tony Stark died that day, spiraling back down to Earth in a giant ball of fire. His heart stopped before before he even hit the ground, but somewhere between the time of his passing and the time he opened his eyes, a God saved him- or damned him. Tony wasn’t sure which one yet.


End file.
